


Gonna Do My Very Best (And It Ain't No Lie)

by Sokkas_First_Fangirl



Series: I Lay My Life Before You [10]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: (that would be Roger and Freddie), Alpha Brian, Alpha Roger Taylor (Queen), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta John, Brian: do no harm but take no shit, Discrimination, Don't copy to another site, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, M/M, Omega Discrimination, Omega Freddie Mercury, Omega Verse, Other, Pack Feels, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Press and Tabloids, Protective Brian May, Sexual Harassment, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 04:32:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19434001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sokkas_First_Fangirl/pseuds/Sokkas_First_Fangirl
Summary: Roger had made a promise to protect Freddie and Brian was content to leave him to it. Let Roger handle the snarling and fighting; it had never been Brian's forte.However, he didn't always have the option of letting Roger handle things.(Or: four times Brian stood in as the leader of the Freddie Protection Squad.)





	Gonna Do My Very Best (And It Ain't No Lie)

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of you have requested to see Brian step in as momentary leader of the Freddie Protection Squad and here it is at long last! Hope you enjoy 💕

**London, England, October 1970** **  
** **_“If you thought I'd leave then you were wrong, ‘cause I won't stop holding on. So, are you listening? So, are you watching me? If you thought I'd leave then you were wrong, ‘cause I won't stop holding on. This is an emergency, so are you listening? And I can't pretend that I don't see this. It's really not your fault that no one cares to talk about it, to talk about it.” -Emergency,_ ** **Paramore**

Brian was clever; it was one thing he could always count on. He was the clever one. He was the one his friends turned to when they had a problem that needed fixing. As such, it was sometimes a relief to let Roger take control; Roger had the stereotypical Alpha temper. He was quick to snarl and snap, to cling possessively to whichever friend he deemed to be in danger. Brian often felt too _quiet_ to do that.

He didn’t always have the option of letting Roger do the protecting.

They’d only recently convinced Freddie to move in with them; with their three salaries combined they could afford a bigger place and to Brian’s relief it also meant Freddie only had to work one job now. For the sake of what was proper, Brian had insisted they let Freddie have his own bedroom. It wasn’t a very big room, but Freddie didn’t seem to mind.

But the facts remained: Freddie was an unmarried, unbonded Omega. Unlike most, Brian had been raised to respect an Omega’s virtue- not to say Brian thought Freddie was some blushing virgin, he knew damn well he wasn’t, but he also knew _boundaries._ They’d only been friends for a month (just about) and although he understood _why_ Roger felt so fiercely protective so quickly, Brian also didn’t want to push it. He didn’t want to give the wrong impression; though he had to admit, the realisation that Freddie had been alone, that he didn’t even have a family anymore, had been jarring. It had made him want to take Freddie home with them, there and then.

Still, that was one hurdle crossed; they all lived together now. They were still getting used to each other’s habits and routines, and their music was fast improving with their new singer (if only they could find a bassist). So Brian, still feeling a little shy, a little unsure of what was okay and what wasn’t, was perfectly content to let Roger do the snarling.

Until he couldn’t.

He and Freddie were doing the weekly shop; for once, Roger wasn’t with them, stuck in a late class. Freddie, always so quiet when they weren’t practicing, hummed under his breath as he pushed the trolley along, content to follow Brian’s instructions. Brian insisted on doing most of the heavy lifting and bless Freddie, but he stood no chance of reaching the top shelf without his platform shoes. Unlike Roger, Brian sometimes felt a little shy of Freddie, worried about offending him or making him think Brian was just another entitled Alpha. Logically, he knew he’d done nothing to make Freddie think that, but the fear was there all the same.

(He was pretty sure Freddie knew it too, because he often said, “No need to look so nervous, Brian!” whenever they hugged.)

“Okay, so now we just need Roger’s cereal,” Brian said, peering at the shopping list. It was lashing rain out and for once he was glad their Tesco always seemed so stuffy. “You know what he’s like, if we forget his Cookie Crisp he’ll sulk.”

Freddie let out an amused huff. “Once was enough,” he laughed. He peered around the shelves and then knelt with a bright, “Oh, here it is!”

As luck would have it, that was the precise moment an Alpha decided it would be a great idea to walk backwards as he called down the aisle to his friend.

“I’ll just grab the- hey, _watch it!_ ”

The man tripped over Freddie, knocking the Omega flat on his back with a yelp; the Alpha dropped his armful of groceries; a bag of apples, a box of cereal and two large packets of crisps fell to the ground.

And rather than apologise, the man glared down at Freddie.

“Watch what you’re doing,” he snapped. He pointed at his groceries. “What’re you gawping for, Omega? Pick them up!”

“ _You’re_ the one who knocked it _me!_ ” Freddie protested, pushing himself to his feet. “Pick up your own things!”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, you little wh-”

“Alright, back off,” Brian snapped. He’d had enough. Instantly, he was by Freddie’s side; without thinking he took Freddie’s hand, glaring the other Alpha down. Sometimes he loved being tall; the other Alpha was older than them, but he was much shorter than Brian. “Leave him alone,” Brian continued. “Pick up your own groceries and then bugger off, yeah? _You’re_ the one who was walking backwards.”

“He was in my way,” the other Alpha insisted, though much more weakly.

“And now you’re in _my_ way,” Brian snarled. Distantly, he wondered where this was all coming from; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually snarled.

But Freddie was his friend. He hadn’t done anything wrong and this moron was trying to start a fight anyway.

Brian wasn’t about to stand for it.

They were briefly locked in a staredown; Brian glared, the other Alpha gulped before he wordlessly collected his groceries off the floor. He glared at Freddie one more time and actually _flinched_ when Brian took a step forward.

Then he hurried away, not looking back.

“Wow, Brian,” Freddie said, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Get you!”

“I’m sorry,” Brian apologised. He dropped Freddie’s hand. “That was- that was inappropriate, I-”

_“Inappropriate?”_ Freddie laughed. “That was hilarious! He looked like he was going to pee his pants!”

Brian stopped babbling apologises, surprised. Slowly, he started to grin. “He did, didn’t he?”

Freddie nodded. He stooped again to grab Roger’s precious cereal.

“Looks like Roggie has snarling competition now,” Freddie said, waving the box at him. “You looked positively ferocious, darling.” His smile softened. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t really do much,” Brian said and Freddie shrugged.

“A lot of other people would have just let him yell at me,” he said, with such simple certainty that it made Brian’s heart hurt. Freddie dropped the cereal into the trolley and smiled up at Brian. “Now let’s get home before that wretched rain gets any worse.”

  
  
  
  
  


**London, 1973** **  
** **_“It's the terror of knowing what this world is about. Watching some good friends screaming “Let me out!” Pray tomorrow gets me higher. Pressure on people, people on streets.” -Under Pressure,_ ** **Queen**

One thing Roger had yet to fully grasp was that you couldn’t just punch all your problems until they went away. Sometimes you had to be sneaky. Sometimes you had to keep a level head, or you risked making things worse.

Brian understood that but the very sight of Foster, Sheffield and Prenter made him want to rip their throats out. He looked at Reid and wanted to grab the man by the shoulders and shake him until he saw sense, though he was feeling more and more certain that would be futile. 

Two weeks after that godforsaken nude photoshoot and another shoot had been arranged- fully clothed this time, _thank God._

“Consider it a reward for good behaviour,” Foster had laughed.

Freddie, still keeping up his ‘repentant’ act, nodded, eyes on the floor. Despite _Queen’s_ protests, Freddie had pointed out, “If they realise this didn’t break me down they’ll do something _worse._ It’s better if I keep my head down for a while.”

He had a point. Brian hated it, but he had a point.

“I’ll just do what they taught me in school,” Freddie told them, rolling his eyes; and if _this_ was what he’d been taught, Brian rather wanted to hit his teachers too. Because Freddie seemed more like a doll than a person, keeping his head down, hands folded in his lap, speaking only when spoken to- and when it came to Foster he rarely addressed Freddie directly.

But Brian knew he was right; so long as Foster and Sheffield thought they’d won, they’d keep off their backs.

And of _bloody course_ Prenter had to accompany them to this new photoshoot. Brian dearly wished they could fire him, but he was such a _snake;_ they couldn’t fire him for staring at Freddie or lightly touching him. Anyone in charge wouldn’t count it as harrassment, no matter how uncomfortable Freddie was, no matter how pissed off Roger was.

Brian was tired. He was fed up, his patience was reaching it’s breaking point. He wished he could wake up tomorrow in a world that believed in equality. He wished he could find a record label that would treat Freddie equally and pay him equally, he wished they could fire Prenter.

So when he spotted Prenter once more leering at Freddie from across the room, when he saw Freddie duck behind Roger, Brian had enough.

He marched over there, fists swinging, head held high. He was only an inch taller than Prenter, but it was enough to give him a boost of confidence. “Weak” Alpha or not, he still had his height to his advantage.

“I suppose you’re happy after that last shoot, hm?” Brian said, sickly-sweet. Prenter jumped, clearly startled; he finally looked away from Freddie, frowning at Brian.

“Oh, what now?” Prenter demanded. “I’m just standing here.”

“You’re making Fred uncomfortable,” Brian said, still forcing that icy smile onto his face. “If you could quit leering like that, that would be lovely.”

“You’re as bad as Roger,” Prenter scoffed. “I’m not _doing_ anything; it’s just a bit of flirting.”

“That ‘bit of flirting’ will make Roger break your nose,” Brian said. His voice lowered to a growl when he added, “And I’ll do a lot worse. _Leave Freddie alone._ ”

“Fucking hell, what’s gotten into you?”

“I’ve had it with people like you, that’s what,” Brian snapped. 

“Why do you care?” Prenter’s eyes narrowed. “He’s not _your_ boyfriend.”

“Or yours either,” Brian said cheerfully. “And that drives you crazy.” Prenter went red; Brian shrugged. “No, he’s not my boyfriend, but he’s my _friend_ and I’m fed up with you staring at him and touching him all the time. He’s taken- _get over it._ ”

And then Mick was calling for the photoshoot to start and Brian joined his boys, leaving a sputtering Prenter behind.

  
  
  
  
  


**New York, America, 1981** **  
** **_“Champagne, cocaine, gasoline, and most things in between. I roam the city in a shopping cart, a pack of camels and a smoke alarm. This night is heating up. Raise hell and turn it up saying, “If you go out you might pass out in a drain pipe.” Oh yeah, don't threaten me with a good time!” -Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time,_ ** **Panic! At The Disco**

It was one of the rare times that _Queen_ and their respective spouses (or in Freddie’s case, his boyfriend) all found time to go away together. It had been much easier to arrange before they had children, but for once the grandparents had been left with the kids and the adults took off for a much needed break.

Brian sometimes wondered if they just _attracted_ drama. It seemed like everywhere they went _something_ went wrong, or something crazy happened. 

For once, it wasn’t the fans, it wasn’t the press.

No, it was an entitled asshole whom Brian had hoped to never see again.

Bill fucking Reid.

Last year, when _Queen_ had been in New York, Bill asked Freddie out. At first he seemed like the perfect gentleman; he’d been so sweet in asking, so apologetic for “bothering” Freddie.

Then, on that date, Bill made it plain what he thought of Omegas. He’d ranted on about how, once bonded, they should stay at home. He’d leered at Freddie and asked all sorts of questions about his romantic history (and been so stupidly jealous when he learned that Joe lived with Freddie). He’d made Freddie horribly uncomfortable and when Freddie cut the date short, Bill had grabbed him and kissed him, tightly groping Freddie’s ass, claiming that Freddie “owed” him.

Freddie, ever the trooper, always their little soldier, had kneed Bill in the crotch as hard as he could and ran for the nearest taxi.

It had taken Brian, Freddie, Deacy and Phoebe to keep Roger and Joe from hunting Bill down, though truthfully Brian had been tempted to break the man’s neck himself. Who the hell did he think he was!?

But other than a few more attempts to see Freddie (wherein he insisted Freddie was over-reacting), Bill had soon ceased to matter. They’d performed on MTV and then headed home as planned.

But now, a year later, they were back.

And of course, Bill Reid was in the first bar they went to.

They didn’t spot him at first; if Brian had seen him he’d have warned Roger and Jim right away. Freddie had offered to get the next round and he was taking longer than necessary. Sighing, Brian reasoned that Freddie was probably having difficulty balancing a tray with so many drinks.

He went to look for him.

He found him, pressed against the bar by a familiar Alpha; the sight immediately had Brian snarling.

“I told you, _I’m taken,_ ” Freddie growled. “So unless you want me to knee you in the balls again, I suggest you get your hands _off_ me.”

Bill didn’t listen; he laughed, saying, “Don’t be like that, baby. Come on, I thought you were all about having a good time?” His hand lowered to Freddie’s hip.

Brian saw red.

He stormed over there, growling heavily. His hand clenched down on Reid’s shoulder as he yanked him away from Freddie.

“Get away from him,” he growled.

Bill went to protest but once he saw who’d grabbed him he fell quiet. He seemed to be debating his options. After a moment, he shoved away, smoothing his shirt down.

“You can have him,” Bill scoffed, glaring at Freddie. “He’s a frigid little bitch anyway.”

Brian wasn’t quite sure _how_ it happened. One second, Bill was glaring at Freddie. The next second, Brian had the snivelling bastard pinned to the wall by the neck.

_“BRIMI!”_ came Freddie’s shocked (and admittedly frightened) scream. It helped snap Brian out of it- and it alerted everyone else to the situation. Jim, Roger, Deacy, Veronica, Dominique and Chrissie pushed through the crowd.

“Oh, _it’s_ back,” Roger instantly snarled. He stood by Brian’s side, fists clenched, apparently oblivious to the bouncer shouting at them as he made his way over.

“What-? Who?” Jim shook his head, pulling Freddie back against him. Chrissie’s mouth was hanging open in shock.

“You ever come near him again,” Brian snarled. “Talk about him like that again- and I swear to God, I’ll kill you.” He shoved Bill away, towards the bouncer.

“He was groping my friend,” he explained with forced calm, jerking his head at Freddie. The bouncer’s eyes went to Freddie, held tightly in Jim’s arms. Freddie nodded; the bouncer sighed and pulled Bill away from them.

“Every fucking Saturday,” Brian heard the man grumble. “People keep hitting on taken Omegas and someone’s gonna end up in hospital.”

Brian wouldn’t be surprised if someone _had._

“Brian, holy crap,” Chrissie said.

“...Sorry about that,” Brian said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’d have done worse,” Roger said, deadpan.

Freddie threw his head back and laughed.

  
  
  
  
  


**July, London, 1987** **  
** **_“She don't see her perfect, she don't understand she's worth it, rr that beauty goes deeper than the surface. (Oh, oh.) So to all the girls that's hurting, let me be your mirror, help you see a little bit clearer the light that shines within.” -Scars To Your Beautiful,_ ** **Alessia Cara**

Freddie was a little guy; any change in his weight became noticeable soon enough. He was pregnant in the summer and therefore couldn’t hide it under thick jumpers. He’d done what he could to hide it from the press for as long as he could, just wanting some privacy...But it could only last so long. As soon as the news leaked, the damn vultures swooped in. They’d been relentless ever since the news broke, but Brian had just hoped they could enjoy some quiet time for once.

Brian and Freddie had just been enjoying a day out; they weren’t doing anything too taxing, not with Freddie’s condition, but it was a nice hot day- why waste it? 

Brian wasn’t sure _how_ the press tracked them down to this cafe, but in the blink of an eye their relaxed lunch was suddenly ruined.

They’d been sitting outside, enjoying the sunshine, when six reporters seemed to descend from nowhere. Cameras flashed, voices shouted and it seemed like every other customer, and every passer-by was stopping to stare.

“Would you all back off!?” Brian barked, but of course they ignored him.

“Freddie, do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“Freddie, how does your husband feel?”

“Why did you wait so long to have a child?”

“Isn’t this a little _dangerous_ at your age?”

For God’s sake, they made him sound decrepit! He hadn’t even reached his forty-first birthday yet, but they were carrying on as if he was elderly.

Poor Freddie had gone white as paper; his nails dug into Brian’s arm, his other hand rested protectively on his stomach. His eyes swivelled from reporter to reporter; Brian could see all the tell-tale signs of a panic attack building. His eyes watered, his breathing hitched, his hands were starting to shake.

That did it.

Brian hauled Freddie to his feet, keeping a protective arm around him as he elbowed their way past the reporters. He’d parked just down the street and he ushered Freddie to the car as fast as he could. Ignoring the shouts behind them, ignoring the cameras continuing to flash, ignoring the petulant “Your fans deserve to know!” Brian drove as fast as he could, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white.

“Are you okay, Fred?” he asked, as gently as he could.

Freddie shook his head, giving a tiny sob.

“I just want them to leave me alone,” he admitted, and Brian’s heart broke. For God’s sake, this was Freddie’s _baby_ they were talking about. It was private. No one was entitled to any information if Freddie didn’t want to give it.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them,” Brian said.

Freddie wiped at his eyes, going through those familiar breathing exercises. “Don’t be silly, dear,” he said. “I don’t think the army itself could stop them.”

“You’re probably right,” Brian said, managing a smile, a smile Freddie returned.

“Well, that’s our day out scuppered,” Freddie said. “We can always just hang out at my pool for a bit if you want?”

“Honestly, a dip in the pool sounds great with this heat.” Brian rolled down the window, turned the radio on. “Feeling any better?”

Freddie nodded, his smile more certain this time.

As they drove back to Garden Lodge, Brian made a mental note to let Jim know what had happened. What’s more, he made a mental note to tell _Roger._ No, you couldn’t punch all your problems away, but if Roger _just so_ _happened_ to run over a reporter’s foot again...Well, Brian wouldn’t stop him. It might make Freddie laugh, which would be worth it.

He glanced at his friend; Freddie had both hands resting on his stomach, his eyes were closed, head tilted towards the sun like a little cat.

Yeah, it’d be more than worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Brian is a good boy. Freddie is a good boy. Not to be dramatic but I would kill for them.


End file.
